


Equivalent Exchange of Love

by endlesscloudsoftime, Nonexistenz



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crushes, Digital Art, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Mostly Fluff, Not Canon Compliant, Reverse Big Bang Challenge, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Vicchan still doesn't live though >., Victor is a huge fan instead, Young Katsuki Yuuri, Young Victor Nikiforov, also there is a description of an accident, just in case - it's not too bad, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:39:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlesscloudsoftime/pseuds/endlesscloudsoftime, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nonexistenz/pseuds/Nonexistenz
Summary: Stumbling across one skater's performance was never meant to be so life altering.Victor's life turned anyway.- Written for Viktuuri Reverse Bang 2018 -





	Equivalent Exchange of Love

**Author's Note:**

> For Viktuuri Reverse Bang, 2018. 
> 
> Artist: Jay (nonexistenz)  
> Beta: Sammy (porkcutletbowltrash)

_-World Championships, 2008-_

 

 

_Mmm but it’s not dark chocolate._

Victor sighed and then internally cringed at the wash of another round of concurrent flashes of light on his person. He could already see the headlines in his mind’s eye as clear as the twisted, hungry faces of the vultures in front of him – _‘Rising Russian contender at Worlds has the competition far from mind’._ Despite the consequences (including Yakov’s infamous three hour lecture on celebrity demeanor), Victor couldn’t bring himself to truly care. Whatever excitement he had felt on winning the coveted medal at Worlds was left on the ice, and with each passing question he could feel the little energy he had left ebb away slowly. If only Yakov could wrap this up soon…

“That’s all the questions we’ll be taking. Thank you.”

It seemed that Yakov truly had a timing of an angel.

Victor felt a current of energy run through him at the prospect of moving around once again, so he jumped up, and with an enthusiasm he truly felt in his bones, he thanked the reporters and his supporters. A smile on his face, he turned on his heel and walked away as quickly as his legs could take him. He could hear Yakov huffing behind him, trying to keep up, but Victor paid no heed to his beloved coach. It’s not like the hour long lecture he knew he was going to receive was a novelty anyway.  Victor made his way back to the ice, and felt another thrill of excitement run through him when he realized that the Junior World Championships long programs were underway.  Victor quickly made his way to a spot by the rink, pulling his hoodie up to hide his hair. He was aware that being noticed would cause a stir, and he wanted to avoid the reporters for a while now. Plus the obscurity would mean that the attention would be on the younger skaters, as they rightly deserve.

As a young skater sat in the kiss and cry, receiving his scores while clutching a teddy in his hands, Victor hoped he hadn’t missed Christophe Giacometti’s performance. The young boy had a purity in him that caught Victor’s attention, and he couldn’t wait to see what the young Swiss skater would bring to the table.  On seeing his earlier performances, Victor knew that should Chris have a clean skate, he would definitely be a hopeful for gold.

The appearance of the next skater on the ice pulled Victor out of his ruminations, and he squinted at the overhead screen to catch his name.

_Yuuri Katsuki. Japanese._

Watching Yuuri settle into his starting position on the ice, Victor felt drawn to the way the young boy – _the very very young boy_ – ‘s hands were poised, with a grace that was as similar to his own as was unique. He could also see the tremble in the boy’s hands, and in the way his shoulders shook slightly. He doubted the audience could see it though, and Victor hoped the boy could channel his nervousness effectively.

The starting notes of the program’s composition crashed through the arena, and Victor found himself teleported to a plane he had never fathomed existed.

Yuuri Katsuki skated with the grace of a ballerina, the toe-picks on his skates seemingly feather-light on the ice. With every flick of his wrist and twist of his body, Victor could see the streams of residual magic in the air. The choreography was well timed with the music, and even though Victor would’ve changed a few components here and there, it seemed to put Yuuri more at ease the longer he danced.

However, no matter how smitten he was with the young boy’s grace, Victor felt equally worried for Yuuri’s technicality. The first triple toe loop was a bit over-rotated, and when Yuuri popped a double toe loop in his triple lutz double toe loop combo Victor felt the biggest urge to bite his nails in frustration. A wobbly double salchow almost made Victor jump up and down in frustration but the following Ina Bauer stole Victor’s breath away in admiration. When that was followed by a technically perfect triple axel, Victor whooped with joy, his screams lost in the audience’s.

Every jump and spin after that was performed with perfection.

When Yuuri Katsuki slid into his final pose, Victor mourned the end of the performance. He found himself unable to look away from the slight furrow of the boy’s eyebrows as he pulled his hands to himself. Before he could wonder about it though, the crease disappeared as Yuuri greeted the audience and collected a tiny onigiri plushie on his way to the kiss and cry.

Victor knew that the performance wouldn’t give the boy a gold based on the scores he stipulated Yuuri would receive, especially if Chris was yet to compete. It was a medal worthy skate, however, and Victor was confident about that. When Yuuri’s name jumped to the top of the leader board, Victor hopped on the spot with more energy than he felt on the podium. The hoodie slipped down his head though, and just as Yuuri stood up to walk away from the kiss and cry, Victor could hear the familiar growl of ‘VITYA’ ringing behind him. Within moments his hood was being pulled backwards, and Victor watched the ice grow distant before his eyes. He couldn’t bring himself to move, let alone retaliate and stay, even though Chris had yet to perform.

All Victor could think about was Yuuri Katsuki’s exquisite Biellmann spin, Yuuri Katsuki’s powerful triple axel, Yuuri Katsuki’s shy smile at the kiss and cry.

 

_-Grand Prix Final, 2009-_

Hopping in place, Victor tried to see if he could catch a glimpse of Yuuri amongst the shorter heads in the Japanese team. Search unsuccessful, he returned to his coach’s side with a plump pout and an equally noticeable slump in his shoulders. Of course, that just seemed to aggravate Yakov to the point of irritation and Victor found his back being beaten into shape by what should be a weakening old man. Unfortunately, Yakov’s strength did not complement his hair.

Victor could not afford to have his thoughts linger on the junior skater for longer though, he had to make sure that he was on top of his game. Last year’s GPF was not kind to him, he had ended up just missing the podium by two points. It was a defeat he could accept for in this world, even a 0.01 point difference weighed heavier than a diamond. Yet the gap was small enough for him to clutch at his precious strands of hair in frustration. He knew, somehow, that his performance had probably lacked in presentation (no he would _not_ blame the wobbly quad toe that Yakov had thought to remind him of till he perfected it at Worlds) – his PCS score was always at its lowest during the Grand Prix. He was determined to fix that, and thinking of graceful, young skaters would not help him.

Actually…

Victor wished he had a laptop on his person, if he could find something, _anything_ on Yuuri Katsuki’s programs. Then he would be able to review how to sway his arm just right before going into an Ina Bauer and not rely on his fading memory. At least he remembered how young Katsuki held himself during the element, and how he had handled it with exquisite grace so that he could incorporate it into his skate this year. It wasn’t too hard, thankfully, but it was eye-opening nonetheless. Victor vowed to look up Katsuki once the season ended, when he could give his undivided attention to his skates.

“Vitya, it’s time for practice.”

The time for distractions was truly over, and Victor let his focus narrow down to his programs, his skates, his physical and mental prowess, and his coach. If there was one time Victor listened to Yakov unconditionally, it was during warm up practice sessions. Yakov knew how he moved, and could therefore split his attention between him and his competition effectively which Victor could not afford to do on the ice. Yes he needed to make sure he was out of his competitors’ way, but other than that he needed to hone his concentration on himself.

It didn’t take long to reach the rink, or to lace his skates together, the routine running through Victor’s system like clockwork. On reaching the gate, he silently slipped out of his skate guards and onto the ice barely registering the grunt of approval from Yakov. One lap became two, and before long Victor had claimed a corner of the ice, going through the step sequences of his free skate. Keeping an eye on Yakov made Victor keep a track of time, and by the 40 minute reminder he felt ready to give his technical elements a try.

A quick survey of the rink told him that jumping would not be the best idea, so he went on to work on his spins. He tried to add a weightlessness to his limbs in an attempt to refine his elegance, and he hoped that his coach was watching him so that he could get constructive feedback on this. He needed his PCS to rise, but even his technical elements needed an elevation, and a +3 GOE was everyone and their coach’s dream. Exiting his scratch spin, Victor felt ready to jump. He was tired enough to not try a quad but he hoped a triple toe loop would lift his spirits and tide him over the short program.

Just as his skates dug into the ice, ready to propel him towards a larger area for practicing his jumps, Victor felt his breath being squeezed out of his lungs as his body was suddenly flung backwards and into the side of the rink. He could feel a grunt escape him as his head collided with wood in the back followed by ice on the front, and stars burst before his eyes. Before he could make an assessment of his situation, however, Victor heard a startled yelp behind him before his leg split into an excruciating pain and Victor cried out just as he heard the scrape of flesh on ice. His whole body pounded with pain ranging from dull throbs to needle-like pricks, and his vision was blurred and bright throwing Victor into more confusion than he could mentally process. He tried to lift his body up, but after a few unsuccessful attempts he aborted the motion. Resting his head back down as gently as he could (which didn’t require much because he could barely lift it) Victor let the cacophony of his surroundings lull him into unconsciousness, the ice almost comforting in its frigidity.

 

****

 

“ _THE SEA-Yakov!”_

Yakov’s eyebrows furrowed further, which Victor thought would not be possible yet the proof was in front of him.

Then again, Victor had not thought that he would ever take a season off pre-retirement.

“Please, Yakov, tell me that you’re being super pessimistic right now. Please tell me I can at least make it for Europeans!”

A low, rumbly sigh just deepens the pit in Victor’s stomach. “Vitya, one season off is being optimistic. With your injuries-“

“It’s NOT that bad! No way. I barely have a concussion.”

Exasperated, Yakov looks to the ceiling. “Your _legs,_ Vitya.”

The anger bubbling within Victor burned his insides, unable to lash at his innocent, helpful coach and unable to direct its wrath on poor, unsuspecting fellow skaters. He understood that it was just a mistake that led to this unfortunate chain of events, and he wasn’t the only skater injured. It was just unfair that he was the only skater unable to perform.

And now he was out of the running for a whole season.

Sensing Victor’s fast approaching dejection, Yakov grasped his hand within his two weathered ones and met his students gaze as firmly as he could. “You can come back from this. The doctors say that the cut calf muscle will take three to four months to heal, while your ankle should take around three weeks. Just put all your effort into rehabilitation and then. Just watch. We’ll make it such that no one can stop you from taking over the skating world.”

Victor could feel a resolve within him harden despite the despair of his injuries and their recovery time. Yakov’s words gave him a footing to steady himself on, and it made him feel much better in spite of being trapped in a hospital bed. He could redirect his anger and frustration at this, at making himself the best and who knows, maybe the medical world would be in for a surprise if he recovered in half the time through sheer willpower alone.

The thought made Victor grin.

 

_-Mid-season, 2009-_

Pouting seemed to be the most satisfying and the most staple action Victor was capable of during his period of confinement. Victor knew, with the frequency at which he delivered one, that his pout was practically perfect. If there was a competition for the model pout, he would win by a landslide no doubt.

With figure skating however, at the rate he was going, he would end up rotting his muscles away before being fit enough to take the ice again.

He knew he was being dramatic. Yakov was actually pleased with Victor’s recovery rate [Victor believed his coach was more pleased about the fact that Victor actually followed all the instructions given for recovery]. He would be able to take the ice in another two months if he was good, and walk normally in one. Although it still felt like an age, it was something Victor clung onto with relief and happiness. Especially relief, seeing as he almost set back his recovery while trying to hop around an excitable Makkachin in the kitchen. He did not want to delay his return to the ice by even a millisecond.

Oh, how he missed the ice.

He wanted to feel the resistance of the ice under his blades, the cool whip of the recycled air in the rink through his fingers, his hair, his legs. He wanted to elongate his body and feel as if he was embodying the boundaries of the rink by stretching to them.  He wanted his ears to resound with the same vibrations his body felt as he landed from a satisfying quadruple with a resounding crack. He even missed falling, feeling the cool of the ice on his cheek and through his sweats. If that wasn’t an occupational withdrawal then Victor didn’t know what could be.

At least there were plus sides to his injury. On the one hand, he got to give and receive love to and from the one who would always cheer for Victor irrevocably. Makkachin would lather his face in doggy drool every single day, without fail, and it would always cheer Victor up. His girl was so smart too, and Victor felt pride swell in his chest for his dog like never before this season. She was always mindful of Victor’s injured leg, trying not to jostle it too much when she laid her head on or draped herself over Victor’s belly. She slowed down to accommodate to Victor’s pace after three walks with him, and obediently followed Yakov out the door when Victor couldn’t accompany her. Makka was the brightest light in his life, but she glowed even brighter during these past, painfully trying months.

On the other hand, Victor was able to finally concentrate on his peers, and his juniors. And after a good period of delaying the inevitable (Victor did not know why he did so in the first place), he had clicked on a shaky video of Yuuri Katsuki’s Junior World Championship skate in 2008, the only skate he had the privilege of witnessing. Watching Yuuri’s grace on screen was almost as breathtaking as Victor remembered. When the final bars of Yuuri’s composition piece rang through his speakers, Victor could not stop himself from clicking on another performance of the Japanese skater’s and from then on it was a downward spiral.

Ever since he had advanced to the Senior division, Victor had not had the time or the headspace to watch videos of his favourites or his peers. The only way he had kept up was through Yakov’s insistence of examining his competition. He tried to keep these analyses confined to the rink, much preferring to have a carefree mind when giving his time and attention to Makkachin. She had deserved nothing less after all. However, his injury made sure he had enough time in the world, and he decided to use the time to catch up on Katsuki Yuuri’s career. Especially when he spent an entire day wading through press conferences in Japanese, just to glean some knowledge on the shy, elusive Junior skater.

Victor found himself consumed by the desire to know more, to hear more, to see more of Katsuki Yuuri. Videos of competition skates turned into videos of practice skates which turned into videos of press conferences. Slowly, but surely, Victor felt a strange pull to know every little thing about Yuuri. The days suddenly picked up their pace, and soon they were flying by. Only after two weeks of intensive internet sleuthing did Victor consciously realise that he was completely and utterly bewitched by the skating enigma that was Katsuki Yuuri.

It was hard to ignore his worship when he found himself staring at his membership account on the official Yuuri Katsuki fanclub website after all.    

 

 

 

****

 

“Ugh this is…..stupid….UGH.”

Victor couldn’t stop himself from chewing his lip _again_ and resigned himself to a life of chapped lips when he tasted his lip balm for the fifth time in the hour. His eyes felt unusually heavy as he scanned the screen before him, trying to figure out just where had he messed up. Glancing to the right of his screen, Victor felt the fatigue crash through his body as he realized it was well past his bedtime. Sighing and dragging a hand through his hair, Victor scrolled down the page squinting at the tiny characters that popped up with every drag of his fingers across the mousepad.

It didn’t help that every word on the page not inputted by himself was in a language he couldn’t decipher.

Grumbling to himself again, Victor found the information box that required alteration. Hands flying across the keyboard, he changed it and violently jabbed the ENTER key. The agony a small rotating blue ball of a cursor was something Victor found that he just could not stand after experiencing it for the better half of the evening. Luckily, he didn’t have to as a new page loaded on his laptop. The very fact that the page before him was different from the one filling his screen for almost two hours straight was a good enough sign. Let alone the green tick prominently visible on the page, which was all Victor needed to see before slumping forward. Feeling like he had just gone through one of his programs, Victor let out a loud moan of relief, and chuckled when Makkachin raised her head sleepily in response. Ordering something online had never been as tiring as a workout.

Well there was always a first for everything.

His purchases were well worth it though, in Victor’s humble opinion. Katsuki Yuuri was a treasure, both as a skater and as a human being (from what Victor could scavenge on the wide reaches of the internet) and deserved to be cherished as such. The only way Victor knew how to do so, without raising a cause for concern, was to support him the best way he could; as a fan.

Skating events were not an issue to get to, for if Victor was not at the event itself then someone from his rink would be. Either way, Yakov would always be there. Which was great if Victor wanted to attend because it would give his coach a satisfaction of being under his scrutiny. Yakov was thoroughly convinced that should he let his eyes wander, Victor would end up breaking more bones trying to get back on the ice. The fear wasn’t completely unfounded, Victor mused amusedly, but he also wasn’t that stupid. Not that Yakov needed to know, especially if the ignorance would play in his favor.

So watching and cheering for Yuuri shouldn’t be too big an issue. And, to Victor’s delight, that wasn’t the only way he could support him.

Now, Victor was not a stranger to merchandise. He was an avid fan of Stephane Lambiel and Evgeni Plushenko after all, and had both skaters’ autographed posters adorning the walls of his bedroom. He was, however, completely unaware of just how dedicated the Japanese were of showing their appreciation for their celebrities.

When Victor first stumbled across the official merchandise for Yuuri, he was stumped for a good ten minutes by the sheer variety of goods offered to fans such as himself. Photo cards, figurines, postcards, clothes ranging from hoodies to socks, banners and more tempted Victor to no end, and that was just the beginning.

Needless to say, Victor gave in to the temptation as easily as the snapping of a twig under a foot.

The first day alone had seen Victor buying no less than five posters of the junior skater mid routine. These purchases were shortly followed by one of everything Victor could find on the official store. Despite this, Victor felt unsatisfied, and it didn’t help that he had to wait for a week before he could receive his spoils of war. The feeling drove him to stalk pages of content on fanclub sites, leading him to a whole hoard of unofficial fan-made merchandise. Victor had never spent so much time or money on online stores before as he did for the next week that followed.

Only when he started receiving his items did Victor’s pace slow, and soon he was content enough with his collection. That was, until he came across a site that made these strange things called _dakikamuras._ A rudimentary search on the net told Victor that these were Japanese body pillows. Although he was torn over whether or not it would be weird to actually buy something like that, Victor made up his mind pretty quickly.

His decision led him to spending the evening hunched over his 13 inch screen, praying for both a site that would allow him to order a reasonably priced pillow that would ship to Russia.

Yawning, Victor stretched his upper body. A satisfying pop of his shoulder blades made him hum with pleasure, and he curled up further into his couch. Sleep was fast approaching him now that he had accomplished his goal for the evening, and not even the bright glare of the laptop could stop his eyes from drooping. Seeing the digital receipt of his purchase before him, Victor ran through his justifications for getting a body pillow of another skater, of another _human being_ in his head again. All of his explanations sounded weak even to him, and as he did in the other times, he placated himself with the thought of ‘ _At least I’ll have a super cute pillow now’_.

Sensing that he was about to doze off right then and there, Victor changed tabs on his browser. He was glad he had the foresight to get ready for bed and grab a blanket to his couch, for he had no intention of getting up at all. Turning, and balancing his laptop precariously, Victor played Yuuri’s performance at Worlds. The soft grunt and slight twitch of ear flaps from Makka told Victor of her acclimatization to the tinny of Yuuri’s composition piece at this hour, and it made him smile. Victor had made Yuuri’s grace on the ice his lullaby, for it seemed to soothe the itch of not being on the ice himself. At least long enough for Victor to rest, and that was good enough for him.

As Yuuri launched into the triple axel, Victor murmured a soft ‘Goodnight’ to both him and Makka before letting his eyes slowly slip shut.  

 

_-Off-season, 2009-_

 

This…..could not be happening.

Victor could only stare at his screen, unable to will the words before his eyes away. Even the ‘chibi’ [a term Victor had come across once and could never let go of again] versions of Yuuri Katsuki in his Lohengrin outfit dancing on the webpage could not lighten his mood. Not when there was a quite-obviously-a-Victor-Nikiforov fan slandering said Victor Nikiforov’s favourite skater.

He did not know how long he had sat there and just stared at the words gobsmacked, but Victor knew that with each passing moment, he was getting more and more angry on Yuuri’s behalf. The nerve of a fan of his to go ahead and point out every weak point of Yuuri’s, exaggerate them to the point of absurdity and then completely dismiss his achievements too! Victor thought that he had made a good show of not emphasizing his preference for the Juniors’ gold medalist [for it would not do to have Russia’s rising star to be biased] but if this was the result of his efforts then Victor would rather he never did so in the first place.

Victor was quite aware that haters came hand in hand with success and fame.  He himself was subjected to many a hateful fan mail, and he knew how both the press and the media could turn his words out of context and paint a completely different picture of him. In fact, Victor even used that to his advantage. If all went well in his career, he was sure that he would gain enough traction as an International Playboy, if any of his current rumors were to go by. Glancing at his pajamas [a custom made matching set littered with Makkachin’s face], Victor knew they could go far from the truth with just a drop of a coin. Therefore, Victor made sure he never took what they said at face value, for even the most hurtful things about him were just words on a medium, with no face attached. Despite this, Victor could not sit by unaffected as he came across a hater on _Yuuri’s fancafe._

Hands trembling, Victor’s fingers tentatively reached the keyboard. As he settled himself further into his sofa his fingers gained momentum and soon they were flying across the keys. Incensed, he made sure to go into an overtly critical review of himself while at the same time drawing up the similarities between his weaknesses and Yuuri’s strengths. Luckily Yakov made sure to point out the areas he needed to improve on daily, otherwise his argument would not have sounded as plausible as it seemed when he finished. Tapping the ENTER key with a flourish made Victor feel beyond satisfied and the sudden relief made his body loosen up and sink further into his couch.

“Look Makka,” Victor beamed at the fluff pile resting by his side, “I’ve defended our love so well! There is no way –“ Victor then squinted at the laptop resting on his belly. A new message had appeared on the fancafe, by the _same VictorForLife._ And it was a paragraph long too.

Victor cracked his knuckles, making Makkachin whine at the sound.

It was going to be a long night.

 

****

 

“Georgi, _how can someone be so mean??_ ”

“Life is mean Victor. But aren’t you technically doing the same thing about yourself?”

“BUT THAT’S ABOUT ME. I should have the right.”

“I get it, I do but. Victor. You’re practically anonymous on that site.”

The finger trailing the edge of the rink barrier abruptly stopped as Victor processed what Georgi said. Tightening the grip on his skate guards, he let his left hand fall away from the surface and back to his side. “That is true. But it’s not like I’m as mean as VictorForLife is about Yuuri. I’m pretty much saying what Yakov tells me, and his criticisms don’t affect my strengths. You know that, Georgi.” On turning his head to look at the latter, Victor found him nodding his head in concord. “This supposed fan of mine is pretty much trashing a great figure skater by focusing on minor errors in the performance. And, in the same paragraph, they’ll go on to bring forth my strengths without even mentioning my weaknesses.”

“Oh the hypocrisy.” Georgi mourns, head in a hand propped by the elbow. “This world is slowly fa-“

“ZHORA YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO HAVE STARTED TEN MINUTES AGO. COME HERE! AND STOP DISTRACTING HIM VITYA.”

With a wave of his wrist, Georgi went back to Yakov and the ice. Victor could only look on longingly, his leg twinging with the phantom pain of the fall. Thinking about the incident was never pleasant for Victor, but the topic of the fall itself was brought up as a point of discussion between VictorForLife and himself _by himself_. He would always hold himself part responsible for not checking all sides before going for that jump, but VictorForLife put up such a convincing argument in Victor’s defense that he doubted his conviction.

Watching Yakov aggressively point at Georgi’s free leg, Victor could hear his rinkmate’s advice rolling in his ears as clear as the music in his headphones. _They’re just haters, Victor. You can’t convince them all._ Victor knew that, that was one of the ‘perks’ of being a celebrity of sorts. Yet there was something about VictorForLife’s criticism online that made Victor believe that they were more than just the average hater. That and their appraisal of all other skaters but Katsuki Yuuri himself. Sometimes Victor felt like the person behind the username was none other than Katsuki himself, but he did not let himself fall into the trap of wishful thinking. Besides, he didn’t know Yuuri personally, so it wouldn’t do to make such a leap either. Victor knew exactly what it was like to have personas projected onto him after all.

If VictorForLife was not such an avid Katsuki Yuuri hater then Victor was sure that he and the user would have been able to build a sound friendship. It was nice to see someone who had similar thoughts about programs and performances (other than those of a certain Japanese skater) to Victor, and who wasn’t shy to divulge them. Everyone around him looked at him like competition in the real world, despite having to sit out a whole season. It was nice to rely on the anonymity of the world online, and Victor enjoyed his discourse with other anonymous users. Even with VictorForLife, despite them being annoying about Yuuri’s skating.

And Yuuri’s interviews. And Yuuri’s advertisements. And Yuuri’s looks.

Thinking about it made Victor’s blood boil. Yuuri was _fine._ Sure he didn’t look like a supermodel, but you didn’t need to look like one to look good. In fact, Yuuri didn’t need to look even remotely good, his eyes itself were some of the most beautiful pools of brown Victor had ever seen.

[Makkachin’s were the best anyday, nothing could make Victor think otherwise]

And sure Yuuri wasn’t the best at interviews, but what did that have to do with the actual sport itself? A few stumbles in speech here and there did not take away his charm or his wit, both attributes so apparent it made Victor’s laptop screen shine from the glow. And Yuuri’s skating was beyond the realm of reality - especially when it came to it’s expressivity and musicality. Sure his jumps could use a lot more work, but even Yakov had yelled at Victor becoming a machine worse than a Zamboni on ice, so Victor was more than happy to see someone focus on the art of the sport. Yuuri’s massive fanbase, the numbers of which could easily rival Victor’s once Yuuri’s senior debut occurred, also seemed to agree with Victor.

As his thoughts turned towards his fans, Victor turned somber and let his gaze fall on his favourite practice spot on the rink. His doctor’s appointment was coming up soon, and Victor felt more than ready to skate. Although he had taken the physiotherapy for his legs seriously and regularly, he knew that problems could still arise unexpectedly. Should the doctor deny him the pleasure, then Victor would have to wait a minimum of three weeks more before the next one. Three weeks that he couldn’t afford to lose for himself, for his close ones, for his fans. They were being so understanding about Victor’s injury he felt blessed, and he wanted to repay them by taking to the ice one, maybe two, competitions earlier than expected. That would be his surprise of the season he was sure of it.

If only he got the yes soon enough.

 

_-Grand Prix Final, 2013-_

Victor stopped, and let his mind battle his desires with his responsibilities as he watched Yakov’s shining bald spot drift further away from him. It didn’t take him long, however, to turn on his heel and let desire take the wheel. Feet stomping on the rain soaked pavement, Victor tried to not pay any heed to the droplets that threatened to ruin his attire. It wasn’t hard to do so when the throngs of people he was amongst were threatening to sweep him right back to Yakov’s irritable mood and glaring features.     

Not even minutes passed by before Victor found his destination, the object of interest responsible for making him return shining like a beacon from within the nondescript storefront. Victor had no idea why this was happening, but finding himself face to face with a plush rendition of his favourite skater ever made him equal parts happy and angry. Angry because the plushie could never do Katsuki Yuuri justice. Happy because Yuuri was loved enough to be wanted as a plushie, and for the plushies to be sold out (if the big glaring Japanese sign in front of a very empty basket was any indication). Take that, VictorForLife.

The more Victor stared at the last plushie the store had of Katsuki Yuuri, the higher the urge to bargain for it and make it a part of his collection grew. The only thing stopping him, which may have factored in the slight feeling of envy that he felt on seeing the toy, was the fact that he had been too impatient to buy one and had instead made a Yuuri-doll for himself. It had taken one look at the various forms of merchandise that members of the fanclub had that had made Victor decide to make one. It meant dedication for the skater, plus a refresher on his sewing skills. And a very cute, very huggable plushie.

 

 

 

Victor loved Yuuri-doll, it made him feel happy from just a hug, and it definitely was a good luck charm for his skates. He had accidentally brought the plushie to the GPF and not only had he gotten his gold there, he had also managed to finally break a senior record - that too the senior record for the free skate. He had squeezed his fears out before the record breaking skate, and had squeezed his joy after. Everything after that had held a sparkle Victor could not kill even if he had wanted to. Thinking about how his Yuuri-doll was perched on the window seat of his hotel room made Victor feel guilty for thinking of cheating on him with a better, tidier representation of Japan’s rising star.

With that in mind, Victor gave the protected plush toy one last, long look, before going on his way, towards a Yakov that had just discovered his absence.

 

 _-During Skate America, 2014-_   

 

“VICTOR PUT THAT AWAY NOW”

Said addressee pouted at the order, and decided to ignore it by squishing his face further into the screen before him. He was supposed to be practicing for his upcoming GPF qualifier, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus, not when Katsuki Yuuri was ready to skate on his first ever international platform as a senior figure skater.

Filing away Yakov’s growing distress as mild background static, Victor found all his senses sharpened as the screen switched from the ice to a close-up of Yuuri getting his final instructions from his coach. Transfixed on the way Yuuri’s fingers tugged the gloves on his hand off and placed them in his coach’s awaiting hands, Victor wondered who had come up with the Japanese skater’s costume design. It was an elegant garment, no doubt about it, but the muted colours and glitters were not reflective of the radiance that Yuuri could transmit from within. If it was up to Victor, he would have really gotten something worthy of Yuuri’s skating and persona.

As the beginnings of a violin rang through the tinny of his laptop’s speakers, Victor let himself fall into his usual mode of analysis. Not even Katsuki Yuuri’s musicality could stop him from critically assessing his performance and comparing it to his own in both the good and the bad. It was a good thing that Victor wasn’t immune to Yuuri’s skating too, it meant that Victor wouldn’t be blindsided when it came to Katsuki’s abilities. Especially since, from this year onwards, they were both competing on the same platform.

The thought of competing with Yuuri sent electricity down Victor’s spine, but other than that and the fluid emotion in Yuuri’s performance, Victor wasn’t moved to a higher plane. Yuuri himself had done great, but Victor could already tell halfway through the skate that it wasn’t showcasing Yuuri’s strengths. It was a textbook ISU skate that could be tailored for any skater but wasn’t the right fit on his bias. A uni-sized garment for figure skating. It was not something Victor wanted Yuuri to have, even when putting aside his biased feelings for the skater. The fact that Yuuri’s strengths were not highlighted meant that he couldn’t perform the best he could, and that wouldn’t make the battle fair. And no matter how much Victor idolized Yuuri, he wanted to win against everyone knowing that he was taking them at their best.

Watching Yuuri make his way to the kiss and cry with an enthusiastic expression, Victor vowed that if he ever had the opportunity to meet Yuuri, the second order of business would be to help him realise and implement the strengths he possessed on the ice.

(The first order of business would of course be to fangirl over Yuuri and praise him and make him blush the deepest red ever - a mission of Victor’s he had hope he could succeed in.)

Victor watched the remnants of Skate America’s short program before tuning back to Yakov’s frequency, which was dangerously silent. While Victor dealt with his wrath, he felt the energy coursing through him again, making him itching for the a skate and a gold. If luck dealt its cards right, he could share the podium with Yuuri sooner than he hoped.

 

_-Worlds Championships, 2014-_

 

With every energetic fizzle that ran through his entire being, Victor merely shifted his weight from one foot to another. He couldn’t believe his luck. Not only had he won the World title for the third time consecutively but also shared the podium with none other than _Katsuki Yuuri_ himself and he could not bring himself to stand through a mundane interview straight off the kiss and cry. Not when he knew he needed to prepare his fragile heart for the moment he would be shoulder to shoulder with who _he_ – Living Legend and all - considered to be the best skater in their bracket.

He may also be a teeny bit biased towards Yuuri given how hopelessly gone he was for Japan’s Ace.

To be fair, attraction aside, Victor knew that he had already pegged Yuuri as the best from the moment he had seen him skate at Juniors. Musicality was a gift that he knew first hand was extremely hard to hone and perfect. He had seen countless number of skaters try to do so and fail. Victor himself had only just gotten into calm waters with the art, which was why he knew that no skater, including himself, could ever trump a Junior skater who was not only relying on that element to skate but also elevating it to the next step as if it were second nature to him. The years after had only proven to Victor what he had instinctively felt, and if anyone called him the best, it was only because they were looking at figure skating as a sport instead of an art. Sharing a podium with the best artist in the field electrified Victor’s creative senses, and he couldn’t bring himself to sit through an interview that was as identical all the ones that preceded it.

Nonetheless, he had to sit through that, and through Yakov’s umpteenth lecture on respect and tradition before touching himself up for the Victory ceremony. Victor’s hand could barely stop shaking as he dabbed at the beads of sweat glistening on his worryingly growing forehead. The prospect of just standing next to Yuuri gave him a rush of adrenaline that four cups of coffee couldn’t match. As excited as he was though, he was equally scared. The old adage ‘never meet your heroes’ kept ringing through his head as they announced his name, but he let it fly out his mind as his blades flew across the ice to greet the deafening cheers of a portion of his supporters filling the stadium with their approval. He let the excitement of the day bleed into his smile and twirled on his way to the stand, stopping himself just in time from jumping on (his knees did need a short break after all). Chris flounced in soon after, with his usual skate up to the block being as loud as was his voice a whisper of congratulations when he embraced Victor before taking the step to his right.

As the name ‘Yuuri Katsuki’ rang through the stadium, Victor’s left side tingled with all the energy he had been cultivating ever since he found out that Yuuri would be on the podium. He kept his eyes locked on to the gate but did not have to will them there for long, because Katsuki Yuuri glided on to the ice captivating Victor with his boundless grace. He kept staring as Yuuri waved to the cheers of his fans with a dusting of red across his features, which deepened when he made eye contact with Victor on turning towards the podium. He tried his best to at least blink evenly, but Victor could not bear to look away from how Yuuri pulled and chewed on his lip the closer he got to the stand. How could he help the fluttering of his eyelashes then?

Keeping his eyes off of Katsuki Yuuri was impossible for Victor, but he felt that getting to unabashedly stare at him would have been one of the two blessings he would be bestowed with this Worlds. He really hadn’t been counting on anything more than feeling the bronze medalist press against his side for a few precious seconds so when Yuuri bypassed his step to stand in front of Victor’s, Victor all but short-circuited. He registered the subtle lean of his body in the nick of time and managed to raise his hands and bend forward just in time to catch the hug offered by his favourite skater in the world.

His world expanded beyond belief and contracted to their points of contact all at once, and Victor could not think beyond Yuuri’s scent, Yuuri’s warmth, Yuuri’s melodious whisper of congratulations ringing through his being. It was as is touching Yuuri amplified all of his senses to the zenith level, and it was this hyper focus that worked his senses to overdrive. So much so to the point that when Yuuri leaned back upright and gazed at him with his impossibly huge eyes and his impossibly demure smile, Victor couldn’t move a muscle, not even blink.

It took a long while for Victor to regain control of his limbs enough to pull away from Yuuri, and as the bronze medalist went over to deliver the same show of comradeship to the silver medalist, Victor tried to get his mind down from the clouds and to reality. A reality where the gold medalist three times running was expected to smile at everyone, to treat everyone equally, to be special and to not have anyone special. The thought alone, surprising as was its onset, was sombre enough to make him realise what he needed to do and how to do it. By the time the officials arrived with the medals ready for presentation, Victor had his winner smile back on all the while aware of the sly, concerned glances from his right and puzzled ones from his left.

***

The exhibition the next day flew by in the blink of an eye. Especially Yuuri’s breathtaking program, which had had Victor hooked from the first flick of the wrist on pixelated video in the comfort of his bedroom. Other than air, the absence of any barrier let Victor see the true beauty of his program. Yuuri was the siren, and Victor the damned soldier. Still, he was aware of his surroundings enough to collect himself in time for his exhibition, which went by unaffected in both technicality and emotion. The night was a success for Victor and it ended as it always did, with him lounging in his comfortable suite in the absence of a comforting presence,   trying to fill the growing void in his being with as much food as he could muster.

Perfectly normal.

[Perfectly imperfect]

 

The normality of his day, despite the earth shattering events that had happened only a day prior to that, had Victor musing about the future of his career all through morning and afternoon of the next day. This was the last competition in the season that would really allow him to connect with Katsuki Yuuri and although Victor let his infatuation get the best of him both at the victory ceremony and post exhibition (where he avoided the younger skater like the plague because he was both embarrassed and shy of his actions at the ceremony), he knew he was much better than this. Plus, he didn’t want to seem snobby and standoffish to a clearly rising and powerful senior skater. It wasn’t in his nature to only interact with consistent medalists, and he didn’t want to give that impression to the one skater who held his highest regard.

With that in mind, Victor made sure to take care his shirt was free of creases, his hair perfectly coiffed and his scent enticing when evening came around. He was dressing to impress, and he really did not want to fall short in any regard, so stopping short of pulling out all the shots was not an option Victor Nikiforov could take. He could feel his hands getting clammier by the second, but even then he could not stop himself from smoothing the lapels of his shirt again, and again, and again. Luckily he did not have the same habit for his hair, for it did not deserve the abuse, especially seeing as he already seemed to be sporting the beginnings of a bald spot.

His nervousness escalated to the point where the output of all his unwanted energy was pacing around the tiny hotel room, which was how Yakov found him. Sighing he ushered Victor out of the room all the way to the hall for the banquet. His star skater had, in the meanwhile, a stoic expression all the way throughout, barely registering the hand on his arm. Yakov let him go, and gave him the shove Victor needed to mingle with the other skaters before going off to find sponsors for his student.

Victor was aware that Yakov’s ‘gift’, letting him socialise first, was Yakov’s way of making sure that he got over meeting Yuuri and set his nerves back to normal first before meeting and securing sponsors. Victor was grateful for his coach’s anticipation of his needs, and sponsors were the means of getting them. The knowledge, however, didn’t stop him from letting his coach leave uninterrupted as his eyes roamed the venue searching for Yuuri.

Just as Victor was about to give up, he found the object of his search hovering around Celestino Cialdini (his coach, Victor’s mind helpfully yet needlessly supplied). Yuuri’s hands were clasped behind him, and even with the distance between them (they were literally at opposite ends of the room) the tremor in his hands was noticeably visible. Despite the nerves, Victor couldn’t help but notice the grace that was ever so present in the skater as he shuffled from foot to foot, almost hopping in place. Victor made a mental note to revisit the topic of argument with VictorForLife on the forum, making sure to imprint the memory permanently for an adequate explanation to the persistent user. It really was unfortunate that no audio or visual of the banquet in any form could be made public otherwise he would’ve shot down VictorForLife’s arguments with a single piece of evidence.

[At least the user was starting to see the merit in Yuuri’s skating, especially after the second bronze of the season]

Making his way to the pair, Victor slowed down as he drew nearer, unwilling to further spook an obviously displaced Yuuri. Once it seemed like the sponsor they had been interacting with had pretty much signed on with them and was just going through pleasantries with Coach Cialdini, Victor tapped Yuuri’s shoulder and dialled up the brightness of his smile to a 120% as Yuuri turned around.

“Hello there! I’m sorry it has taken me this long to approach you, but I hope we can get to know each other much better from now on.” He let a bit of his amusement on seeing the unwavering shock on Yuuri’s face seep into his smile and continued addressing the gobsmacked expression before him. “I’m Victor - though i’m sure you know. Would it be okay to call you Yuuri?” Victor tried to discreetly rub his hands on his trousers before extending a hand to Yuuri, hoping that his hand wasn’t slicked with sweat.

When Yuuri made no indication of moving or acknowledging any of what Victor had said, the latter got worried about accidentally offending him, as he was apparently known to do given his position in their shared profession. It also confused the Legend because it had been the skater before him who had initiated all attempts at friendly gestures. When it did actually strike the younger skater that the plane he was standing on was actually reality, Yuuri bolted into action, stammering apologies and affirmations as he grabbed and shook Victor’s outstretched palm.

Victor almost reeled from the adorable image of a flustered Katsuki Yuuri but caught himself in time to smile and halt the rising panic in the young skater before him by firmly squeezing his hand in what he hoped would be conveyed with warmth. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it! At least your pause wasn’t as long as this one competitor from Sweden. That had lasted for a good four minutes, I didn’t know what to do.”

Yuuri blinked slowly, once, twice. “Oh, I wouldn’t-”

“Plus I was also a bit dumbstruck at the ceremony myself.” Victor sheepishly placed his hand behind his head and leaned forward slightly as he continued, “So, really, don’t worry about it.”

A slight sparkle in Yuuri’s eyes, a sparkle that Victor only just noticed was there, faded. “Was it too forward of me then? Hugging you at the podium?”

It was Victor’s turn to be flustered. “No no no no no, nothing of the sort! I was surprised when you did yes, but delightfully so - I’m actually a big fan of your skating, and the way your body moves, it’s as if you’re composing melodies. It’s so captivating to watch, it’s what drew me to your skating in the first place, and it’s what I most love about it.

Yuuri seemed to then freeze once more after Victor’s revelation. The latter would’ve been worried about stepping out of line too soon, but was placated by the growing splotches of red overtaking the poor skater’s cheeks. Victor would have felt a little bad about putting him in such a position, but Japan’s Ace did look unfairly adorable, and Victor got a swirl of sadistic pleasure in seeing how his words had affected his muse.

“I may sound condescending, but it’s true. I really do admire and absolutely love your work. Honestly, ask any of my teammates, or even Chris! I noticed that you had a nice rapport with him on the podium.”

Yuuri had somehow managed to extract himself from his funk while Victor was talking and mumbled, “I’ve known him since Juniors. But, “ and here he lifted his previously darting eyes to peer at Victor from under his lashes, “I’m honoured you think of me that way. I still have a long way to go, but hopefully I’ll get to your level soon.”

“Soon?!”, Victor scoffed, “More like next season, if this year is anything to go by. You do know that they’re calling it the ‘Year of the Bronze’ right? I’ll really have to be on my toes otherwise next year might end up being your ‘Year of the Gold’! Who knows.” Winking at Yuuri as a punctuation seemed to bring out that adorable blush out faster, and Victor thrilled at seeing it.

“You really do have a lot of faith in my skating, don’t you? Unfortunately, it doesn’t hold a candle to the level yours is at. Honestly, your jumps are textbook perfect yet you infuse grace and emotion in to your technicality it’s practically flawless. And while on the subject of grace, each gesture of yours is laden with emotion. Anyone who doesn’t see it would be blind. Meanwhile, my jumps are subpar at best, and their consistency is low.”

Sighing, Victor grabbed and squeezed Yuuri’s hand to stop him from spiralling into a ramble fest nad when he succeeded he said, “Look. Jumps can be improved upon easily. Musicality is difficult to achieve. Some people go their whole lives without ever embracing it. Just focus on improving your jumps and tailor your programs to suit your strengths and you may just snatch the world record for both programs from me! I’m saying this from one competitor to another, not just a fan to an idol.”

And although Yuuri gave another shy smile in response, a fire lit deep in the depths of his brilliant browns as he thanked Victor for his advice, before proceeding to chat the rest of the night away.

 

***

 

With the ticking of the seconds passing by, Victor could feel Yakov’s irritation growing. He didn’t blame the man this time, if he had to practically babysit a fully grown adult with no disregard for the people around him he would be irritated too.

But Victor couldn’t help it. Yuuri had promised to contact him back and so far, nothing.

Nothing.

Not even a hey. Nothing.

Victor was this close to shedding actual tears. The previous night had turned out to really be magical, with both Victor and Yuuri getting to know one another, as if they would never have the chance to know the other again. Sitting at a corner table, sipping at champagne and playing footsie under the table would’ve been enough to make Victor’s night, but there was no stopping Yuuri once the music became upbeat. They had spent a significant part of their evening dancing with each other, learning each other’s physical lines, both dangerously teetering on the ones they were treading. The magic had ended as Victor’s dreams usually did, with Yakov bellowing his name and his fun away. In his haste, Victor had grabbed the first pen he saw in the hands of an unsuspecting ISU official, and scribbled his number on Yuuri’s arm, with a very clear ‘Contact me’ before being whisked away by his grumpy coach.  

Said grumpy coach was almost at his boiling point when Victor checked his phone again, but before he could go about ensuring damage control, the device in his hand vibrated and a message, from an unknown number popped up before his eyes. Squealing, Victor clicked on the notification.

“Hey, it’s Yuuri. This is my number, finally got round to messaging you. I’m really sorry for the delay.”

Victor’s thumbs never flew faster on his screen.

 

_-NHK Trophy, 2015-_

 

“Victor she doesn’t need another manicure.”

“But Yuuri, you’re not here to see the enormous puppy dog eyes she’s giving me!”

“I want to be, but I have a skate to do”

“Ooh ooh yes it’s time isn’t it! Best of luck! You’ll do great, cause you’ve worked so hard. You deserve the gold.”

“Thanks, Victor. It means a lot.”

  

- _Grand Prix Final, 2015-_

“Victor, Vicchan……”

“Oh Yuuri.”  Arms encircling a bent body, both leaning on the plastic walls of the stall. “Just let it all out.”

 

_-During Worlds Championships, 2016-_

“Be my coach, Victor!”

“Gladly.”

 

 

 

 

_\- Epilogue -_

 

The undignified shriek that echoed all over the apartment made Victor slam his mug on the counter and rush to the master bedroom, where Yuuri had an outrageously gobsmacked expression on his visage. Illuminated by the glow of the laptop screen, Yuuri’s face would have made Victor stop and admire it, but any worry for his fiancé blew his admiration out of the water as he rushed up to him.

“Yuuri, darling, what’s wrong?”

A shaking finger lifted its way to the center of the laptop screen followed by the tremble of Yuuri’s unnaturally loud voice.

“You’re YuurisKatsudon!!!!”

Victor paled. He did not expect Yuuri to find out, how did he-

Oh.

“Sorry, Yuuri. I really didn’t mean for you to find out, I just forgot to log out. Not that I want to lie to you or anything! It’s just... is this too creepy for you?” Victor was a little horrified at the hitch in his breath when he continued, “Do you need some time away to digest?”

That seemed to snap Yuuri out of his shock and he turned to cup Victor’s face between his palms. Drawing their foreheads together, Yuuri made sure that all Victor’s eyes could see were his own before saying, “Hey. Nothing would make me want to stop being by your side. I really don’t want to go back to being by myself ever. I like staying close to you at all times. Besides,” Yuuri’s eyes shifted downward, and Victor’s curiosity perked at the deflection, “I have something to show you too.”

Victor made himself stand still as Yuuri crossed over to the living room, Makkachin pottering behind him on her heels. In seconds, Yuuri returned with his laptop in hand, and all but shoved the screen in Victor’s face. Scanning the webpage opened before him, Victor could see that it was Yuuri’s fancafe. At first, he couldn’t find what he was supposed to be looking for. Just as his frustration began to gnaw at his patience, however, he found what he was supposed to be seeing, in the form of a username in the top right hand corner of the page.

“YOU’RE VICTORFORLIFE?!?!?!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone ヽ(o＾▽＾o)ノ 
> 
> As you can see, I'm participating in the Viktuuri Reverse Bang this year! I've had the great honor of getting to work alongside Jay (Nonexistenz) who has not only conceived a great concept for us to work with but also has produced such wonderful art for the event - not to mention putting up with me and my erratic scheduling ehehehe. And a big kudos to Sammy (porkcutletbowltrash) for beta-ing this for me on such short notice! 
> 
> This was such a fun event to do overall! Writing Victor's point of view is a bit odd for me because I'm a completely different person from what he is shown to be but it was all the more interesting because of it. And fanboying/fangirling is pretty much the same regardless it's just the intensity that's different so channeling my excitement for this portrayal of fan culture made things better. I ended up getting a bit derailed towards the end but I've somehow managed to pull through and get this up, which I'm so relieved about. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed reading the fic and please feast your eyes on this art and more by Jay (http://nonexistenz.tumblr.com/) ^.^ 
> 
> Also please don't hesitate to ask me questions either below or on my tumblr (http://endlesscloudsoftime.tumblr.com/)


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